


Through Vengeance, You Will Not Find Peace

by fooma_foolish_mortal



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cat/Human Hybrids, M/M, Weasel/Human Hybrids, Wolf/Human Hybrids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fooma_foolish_mortal/pseuds/fooma_foolish_mortal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is on a quest for revenge when he meets Charles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Vengeance, You Will Not Find Peace

He knew what he had become once he heard the stories. The tales sung by Bards and whispered by children in every town he passed; Myths of a lone wolf on a quest for justice. He knew what he had become when he heard fables of a wolf for the dead, for the suffering, and for the people. He knew that he was a false icon, a fake hope. He searched not for justice, but for vengeance. He heard songs sung of this wolf in hope of a better tomorrow and shrunk from the recognition. Although he did hope to end the suffering, and he did want justice for the lost, he primarily thirsted for the weasel’s death to end his own grief, his own rage. He wanted to look down at the dead man and finally let go of the crushing despair that had gripped his heart when he was young and never let go. His drive was personal, and he was fighting for his own, not the people. So he cowered from the desperate gazes and hopeful songs. He knew, in his heart, that he was selfish. And in this way, he thought himself a monster.

He continued his search for the weasel named Shaw that seemed to hold the entire land hostage diligently. He searched unarmed, with only his parent’s pelts on his back for warmth and their teeth around his neck for luck, for he had the magic within, and he could bend the metallic armor and weapons of others with a flick of his fingers and crush skulls with iron helmets. He dreamed, as he always had, of his parents screams and sobs and their frantic begging for his life. He dreamed of the manic laugh of the weasel, and of his cruel mercy to allow the child to live. To allow the wolf, who was utterly dependent on pack, to be alive with his parent’s corpses. And when he awoke, he continued his search with renewed vigor. He believed, with all his heart, that once he had his vengeance, he would be at peace.

The wolf had been searching for years when he met the cat; the cat that introduced himself as Charles, and asked the wolf for a name. And the wolf had to think for a second, because he hadn’t spoken his name in years, before answering Erik. Erik was in shock, because this cat, adorned with soft (not that Erik would know) black ears among rumpled brown hair, wasn’t afraid of him; him, who wore his parents’ skin on his back and their teeth around his neck; him, who frowned at everything and had shaggy, gray, scarred ears atop his head. He may be a false idol, and a fake hope, but wolves were still feared as barbarians. He was only idolized because the people believed that perhaps a monster who has been wronged will be able to destroy another monster. But this cat named Charles wasn’t afraid, and didn’t ask him to leave, and so Erik stayed. At least for winter.

Charles liked to speak with the wolf in gentle tones with soft laughter in his eyes and play games of wit that always ended with joking excuses and mumbled curses. Erik had not had so much contact with another since his parents died, and he discovered that he had missed it. He discovered that Charles had the magic too, magic of the mind, and found that he had come to trust the cat with his thoughts. He found himself less angry, and happier than he had ever been. Never had he had a friend like this, and never had anything tempted him away from his vengeance. His thoughts were full of discussions with the cat, shared memories with the cat, laughter, tears, jokes, games, and even love with the cat.

But he felt he could not stay, for he knew that there was no life for him while the weasel lived unchallenged. He knew that happiness while the weasel still roamed was a betrayal to those he had loved and lost. He knew that he would always be filled with rage and pain until the weasel, named Shaw, had paid for his actions. It did not matter that his rage had lessened, for it had not disappeared. It did not matter that he ached to stay with Charles, for he had a duty to his parents. While his kin’s pelts rested atop his shoulders, and their teeth pressed against his neck, he would not forget. And the wolf was still sure that once he had his vengeance he would be at peace.

So, Erik left the calm, small, peaceful meadow and the wise, gentle, loving cat. He picked up the weasel’s trail, and he made the weasel pay. But, although he had finally achieved his goal, he had no life, and he had no family. He was still in pain, and he was still angry. The wolf did not understand, for he had been so sure that once he had had his vengeance, he would be at peace. Yet all he felt was shame for his selfishness and a longing for the cat that he had left behind in his quest. But he knew that the cat would not want to see him, as he was but an angry wolf that had fulfilled his purpose and was left with nothing to give. And the wolf knew that he was no longer worthy to receive.

Nevertheless, unable to stop himself, the wolf returned to the meadow, if only to say goodbye. The cat was relieved to see the wolf return, for he had feared the wolf was gone forever. The wolf confessed that he could not stay, because he had nothing to give to the cat and he was no longer worthy to receive all the cat had to give. Erik was ashamed to admit that he was wrong, as he was not at peace as he thought he would be, and he believed his pain and rage and guilt would only be a burden. Charles was angry at the wolf’s words. He insisted that the love Erik gave him was enough, and Erik could not stop him from giving his love in return. The cat explained that the meadow was where the wolf could find peace, if only he let himself. The wolf was not sure he believed the cat, but he decided to place his trust in the one he loved, for he wished it to be true.


End file.
